


From Eden

by karnilla_of_norn



Series: Centuries [2]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angry Isis, Angry Kol, Angst, Backstory, Canonical Character Death, Elena Gilbert Bashing, Esther's A+ Parenting, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Hints of Teen Wolf, Magic-Users, Major Character Undeath, Mikael's A+ Parenting, Mutual Pining, Non-consensual mind modification, Read first in series to understand, Sassy Kol, Sorcerers, Vampires, ish, just a bit, vampire ghosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:06:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6206923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karnilla_of_norn/pseuds/karnilla_of_norn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isis Butler lived a normal existence- well, normal for a powerful sorceress from an ancient family, that is. Meeting an Original wasn't something she ever expected, but she didn't regret it for a minute. Until she did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Babe, there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree?~_

 

_December 22nd, 2013_

The room was dark and smoky, clouded with the cloying scent of incense and herbs. The walls were decorated with odds and ends, things of power and mundane alike. A long wooden table dominated the center of the room, scuffed and pockmarked from ages of use resting on a hard packed dirt floor, pounded down from thousands of feet walking over it. People of all walks of life populated the room, from the old “psychic” woman to the well-to-do black couple in the tailored suits. Suddenly, a loud exclamation cut through the low hum of the room.

 

“The signs all point to it, though!” the man in the suit exclaimed, clutching his wife's hand.

 

“There have been many times in history that pointed to it, Edgar, you know this. We cannot jump to conclusions or needlessly panic just yet,” replied a Latino boy, looking thoroughly done with the conversation.

 

Edgar clenched his teeth, backing down when his wife reprimanded him quietly. Others curiously looked on, having their own murmured conversations or just observing the heated debates surrounding them.

 

 

Unbeknownst to most in the room, they had a watcher.

 

 

In all of his considerable years of life, he'd never experienced the phenomena known as astral projection, or dream walking. Intellectually he knew that he was not physically present in the room with these bickering humans, yet everything seemed so vivid and _real_ that he just knew instinctively that it was actually happening. He'd spent plenty of time in his current... predicament, to know that this was outside of it's scope. He also knew that it shouldn't be possible, the magics involved should have prevented anything like this from happening but, well. Here he was, clearly sometime far in the future from the day of his impromptu nap.

 

He watched with an amused detachment as the squabbling devolved into outright shouting, the Latino boy having stood up to lean over the table to get in the face of a purpling middle-aged construction worker. It reminded him of many a time spent with his own siblings. Instead of pondering any longer on his odd situation, he decided to observe closer.

 

 

 

As purple-face-Steve and tattooed-Tica continued to fruitlessly out-yell each other, another present looked at the watcher curiously. Obviously she was the only one who could see him as he was standing right next to old Tallulah and she didn't even acknowledge him save to shiver every once in a while.

 

He was very handsome, with dark hair and pale skin, a mischievous lilt to his full lips framed by stubble on his jawline and a devious sparkle to his dark eyes. He was dressed in clothes that looked to be from the early 20th century, but not the oddest thing she'd ever seen. He seemed just as confused as she was as to how he'd ended up in the highly warded location they used for meetings such as this.

 

Sensing that the argument may become even more...heated, so to say, she leaned forward from her seat in the shadows and said, “Enough.”

 

Instantly, the fight ceased and everyone turned their attention to her, sheepish looks exchanged at their loss of decorum in front of their leader.

 

“It doesn't matter if all signs point to the prophecy. It is a prophecy, therefore it will come to pass no matter what anyone does. It is Destiny. You cannot fight Destiny.”

 

“But... but that means that _they_ will find out about us!” Exclaimed Edward, looking horrified by the prospect. She cast a surreptitious look at their watcher. “I suspect they would sooner than later regardless.”

 

Pulling her attention back to her gathered council, she stood up and cast a stern look over the room at large. “If there is no other pressing business...?” A scattered round of 'No, Mistress' echoed from the group before one by one they started leaving. Soon enough only old Tallulah was left.

 

“Isis, I have known you since you were a child. I've watched you grow into the young woman you are today in the protection of the Sodality after you lost your parents. That said, be careful my dear. I feel a darkness stirring in the Energies around you,” Tallulah said. Isis gazed at the woman who had practically raised her, eyes warming slightly from the steely flint they'd been before.

 

“Tallulah, you were the one who always told me that without darkness there cannot be light,” she said gently, brushing a stray strand of the old woman's white hair back into it's place.

 

“Yes I did, darling, but too much darkness can snuff out the light as well,” she said with a small smile, before a scowl broke out abruptly. “That's the only thing those _addelpates_ got right.” Isis snorted, used to the woman's derogatory view on everyone who wasn't _them._ “Oh, and Isis? Happy birthday,” Tallulah said in farewell, before walking out the rickety door into the black night.

 

Isis's face slackened back into a neutral look as she tidied up, aware that she was being studied intently. When there was nothing else she could do to make the dirty room more presentable, she turned to study him back. Her eyes were the only part of her that betrayed her amusement at his visibly shocked expression.

 

“Who are you,” she stated, not a question. This was her territory, dingy though it was. The location had been strategic for this meeting as she would not miss it too much if it had come to blows. That meant that whatever she had to do to defend herself wouldn't matter in the long run.

 

“I think the better question, darling, is who are _you_?” The being (because there was no way he was human, his skin too perfect and his eyes showing the weight of agelessness) said, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. He had a curious accent, Australian but not at the same time, like he had lived in too many places to settle on just one. He put his hands in his pockets, rocking back onto his heels once before starting an aimless meander around the stuffy room.

 

Isis knew what he was doing, trying to back her into a corner. She played along with his charade of casualness, moving to the opposite side of the room to seemingly peruse a small mason jar full of crushed herbs. “I believe I asked you first.”  
  
It may have been childish but it must've struck a nerve because he stopped. He pondered her silently for a moment before saying, with wonder in his voice, “You are either exceedingly brave or exceedingly stupid.”

 

“I prefer to think of myself as being exceedingly blunt, to be honest,” she replied flippantly, watching his reaction. His face twitched once before he burst out into full blown laughter. It went on for several seconds before two things happened in quick succession.

 

One, he suddenly appeared in front of her, his handsome visage replaced with a snarling mask of fury. His sclera had filled with blood and dark veins pulsed under his eyes while his canines had lengthened to sharp, wicked points.

 

Two, the jar of crushed vervain she'd taken from the shelf was tossed into his face, the lid having been discretely twisted off halfway through her revolution of the room. The fine dust was a cloud as it flew through the air, momentarily obscuring her view of him.

 

There was dead silence as the vervain drifted to the packed dirt floor, revealing a stunned looking vampire. The vervain had obviously not affected him as he would be writhing around in pain on the ground if it had. Isis and the mystery vampire warily eyed the other, not exactly knowing what to do after that anticlimactic confrontation. Isis settled it by going back to her chair and sitting down, staring at him until he took the hint.

 

He slowly walked over to a random chair at the table, giving it a curious look before reaching his hand out to rest on the back of it. Surprise flitted briefly across his face as he pulled it out, settling down into it like it was a throne rather than a cheap white patio chair. They stared at each other again, neither willing to back down. After what seemed like ages but was in reality only a minute or two, the vampire sighed and broke eye contact.

 

“My name is Kol,” was all he said. He looked up, slightly surprised when she replied, “Isis. Isis Butler.”

 

* * *

 

_Babe, there's something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you, get closer to me~_

 

_December 24th, 2013_

 

Isis hummed along with the Christmas music on the radio, resolutely ignoring the bored vampire lounging on a barstool. It was somewhat vexing that he wouldn't leave her alone, but whatever magic was in play created some sort of boundary that he couldn't cross. Which just so happened to have her at it's epicenter, meaning that he couldn't get more than 50 feet away from her without hitting the edge.

 

“I'm boooooored,” he moaned, leaning back on the stool and making a pathetic pouty face at her. Isis rolled her eyes, having heard the same thing 20 times in the last two hours. “Go watch a movie or something,” she muttered, adding the eggs to the cookie mixture she was currently working on. She may celebrate Yule instead of Christmas, but that didn't mean her friends did. The party they were throwing tonight absolutely required her homemade cookies according to the hostess.

 

Isis let out a long, drawn out groan as she realized what that meant. Kol would be coming with her. It was fortunate that whatever spell was keeping him in the physical plane allowed him to interact with his surroundings or else there would be some very awkward questions.

 

It was odd, and certainly something Isis had never heard of before. Usually spectral entities couldn't physically affect things unless they tried really hard. Kol had explained it as feeling like he was surrounded by a bubble- he could kind of feel what he was doing, but mostly had to rely on sight to move things. Isis had tested this by throwing something at his head, only to get an affronted look in return as the book bounced off like a trampoline. She'd also, reluctantly, touched him. It had felt like pressing against an inflated balloon. He'd also had a complete lack of texture and heat, which was disconcerting as well.

 

She came back to reality when he said, “But I don't want to! I watched movies all last night and it's getting supremely boring.”  
  
“Go read a book then!” She snapped, instantly regretting it when his eyes lit up in unholy glee. Ever since she'd practically dragged him all the way back to her house (involuntarily of course), he'd been trying to convince her to let him read something out of her private library. She groaned again, this time in resignation as she remotely dismantled the wards around the room to allow him entrance. With a jerk of her head he took off at vampire speed, causing some bills to flutter to the ground. Isis stared at the pieces of paper, wondering just how the spell could be so selective on what he could and could not do.

 

He couldn't attack her, as he'd tried several times before giving up. His fangs just grazed her skin, never piercing. His fists felt like cotton balls and anytime he tried to push or throw an object it would just fall to the ground in front of him. However, he could still use his vampire speed and like just occurred could create wind. He could eat and drink, but he said that they were tasteless and not filling. He could read and write, as he had already started writing down thoughts that had occurred to him in the last 90 years or so. He could also choose who could see him and who couldn't, though Isis could always see him, which he'd had a perverse amount of fun with at the grocery store. Isis was sure those teenagers would never, ever recover.

 

It really was an odd piece of magic, one that she desperately wanted to study further. The vampire wouldn't let her, though, not knowing or trusting her. The fact that she wouldn't tell him anything about what she _was_ was the icing on the cake for him. He'd have to figure that out himself, hence the obsession with her books.

 

Sighing in agitation she continued to make the cookies, only to be interrupted by an aggravated shout.

 

“Isis, move at least 4 feet to your left! I cannot reach the book I wish to read!” Isis just smirked, picking up the tray and moving in the opposite direction to the oven. A startled 'Ack!' rang out before irritated stomping sounded down the hall. When she turned around Kol was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Rolling her eyes, she just walked around him and into her office, picking out her own book to read while waiting for the cookies to be done. Kol picked up his chosen book and flopped down onto the chaise, flipping to the first page while Isis turned to her saved spot.

 

_The properties of the moonstone are many and varied in alchemical solutions..._

 

When the timer went off Isis was startled out of her deep concentration. Kol was still buried deeply in his book on potions of all things, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes skimmed the pages quickly. Already he was almost halfway through the tome, which was very impressive as it was absolutely massive, one of the biggest ones in her collection.

 

Cracking her back and stretching her muscles, Isis surreptitiously eyed the vampire. He was still an arrogant asshole, but when concentrating like that he looked almost...cute. His nose was crinkled, eyes squinty and he muttered something to himself every once in a while under his breath. Shaking her head, she hurried out of the room, not wanting the cookies to burn.

 

_Later that night-_

 

Isis's smile was slightly strained as she tried to explain why her 'date' was wearing antiquated clothing for the fifth time. Her friend Alyssa, the host of the party, was a costume designer for some big name movies and had therefore exclaimed on it's authenticity, which had gotten everyone (at least the humans) on the topic.

 

As another guest came through the door Isis's instincts pinged again. Los Angeles was a hotbed for the supernatural, and how Alyssa had gone 2 years without noticing was somewhat of a miracle, considering she worked with at least 3 supernaturals on every movie she did. Alyssa excitedly tugged her arm towards the new arrival, who was immediately recognizable as Jennifer Lawrence, a werejaguar shifter of some prominence as her pack was one of the bigger ones in Kentucky.

 

As Isis shook the woman's hand, the customary recognition of another supernatural entity washed over them. Jennifer looked briefly surprised before smoothing out her features and smiling a more genial smile. Usually when introduced you could get a sense of where their alignment lay, so to speak. It could easily be masked, but generally no one bothered with that.

 

Isis saw the moment that Jennifer noticed Kol, who was lurking in the background, sullenly looking at his drink. She looked just as unnerved as every other supe that had encountered him. He was like a void, almost, no scent or aura and it freaked people out. It had amused him the first dozen times it had happened but now Isis could tell that he was just annoyed. She would be, too, if she thought a bunch of humans were snubbing her. Telling him that they weren't humans would just ruin her fun.

 

The party continued like this, Alyssa excitedly introducing her to some celebrity or other, talking briefly before they inevitably scurried away from the disconcerting anomaly. Kol tried several times to talk to someone but barely managed several sentences before they made their excuses. Isis could see him valiantly trying to appear unaffected but every time it happened he got more and more closed off.

 

Finally, after two and a half hours of that torture, Isis took pity on him and made her own excuses. Normally she would've stayed much longer, loving to meet new people and networking with them, creating more contacts in her world. Now, though, she could practically feel how depressed Kol was and it was just cruel to him to stay any longer. Perhaps she should've just explained... 'I'll tell him later,' she thought to herself, wanting to get out of the now-depressing party as quickly as possible.

 

 

 

The car ride home was quiet, Kol's face a picture of brooding silence as he watched the streets of LA go by out the window. The only sound was the soft jazz music playing, something that made him relax the longer the ride went. The familiarity of the melody took him back, to the last time he'd seen his siblings, to the last time he'd seen his _home._ When they finally made it back to her house, he went to reach for the door handle when Isis's voice stopped him.

 

“Are you alright?” Kol paused, momentarily caught off guard. When was the last time anyone had asked him if he was alright? It must've been millenia, right before his turning, the memory hazy and unfocused...

 

 

_Mystic Falls, c. 972_

 

_Kol could only stare in a horrified kind of silence at the mangled body of his youngest brother. Little Henrik, not even a man, cradled in Nik's arms, flesh torn and running with rivers of blood, staining the tunic his older brother wore. He barely noticed as Mother pushed past him, agonized wails escaping her lips and she beheld what had become of her youngest son. There was a curious rushing sound in his ears as he stumbled back, barely acknowledging 'lijah and Bekah's appearance at Henrik's side, soon followed by Finn and Father rushing down the lane at Mother's screams._

 

_He could feel himself turning away from the horrific scene, could feel himself start to run to the trees, to where his and Henrik's “secret” fort was. They had never been particularly close, Henrik preferring the company of Bekah and Nik while Kol himself preferred to study magic. He had to do it in secret, though, as Father thought it 'unmanly' to practice a woman's art, only barely tolerating Finn's tutelage as it was beneficial on raids. That was why he'd built the little hut in a thicket of briars, only accessible by a hidden tunnel through the brush._

 

_Henrik had found it one day, initially frightening Kol as he thought the boy would tell Father that he was doing something forbidden. Instead, Henrik had promised to keep it a secret if he could watch Kol practice. They'd bonded over their secret, Henrik proclaiming that he would one day be a witch too when he was old enough to defend himself from Father. Kol had promised in return that he would teach him all he knew._

 

_Now, though, Kol looked around the little room, only seeing signs of Henrik everywhere. The carved figurines of warriors that he'd brought to occupy himself when Kol was doing something boring, the little nest Kol had made after Henrik had woken up from too many naps cranky from the uncomfortable ground, the charcoal drawings Henrik had made of their family that Kol had propped up in the corner._

 

_He heard a high keening noise, not recognizing it as his own, before he buried his head in his arms and cried. He cried for Henrik, for all the years he'd never see, for all the things he'd never do; cried for Mother, who loved all of her children dearly, even if she didn't show it in the face of Father's wrath; cried for Bekah, who had loved Henrik as fiercely as if he was her own son, who had stolen Father's bow and quiver to kill enough rabbits to make a warm blanket for him, not sorry even after the lashings she'd received; cried for Elijah, who would never again teach Henrik swordsmanship and ruffle his hair when he got a hit, and who would never again lose on purpose just to see the boy smile; cried for Finn, who even though as the oldest was distant to his youngest siblings had carved a child's bow for Henrik's 8th winter and even taught him how to use it, who had lifted Henrik onto his shoulders in celebration of his first kill._

 

_He cried the hardest for Nik, who looked at Henrik like he was a lifeline, a shining light in the darkness of his existence. He cried for Nik, who would bare the blame in their Father's eyes for Henrik's death, who would shoulder this guilt for the rest of his life._

 

_He cried for himself, who wasn't there to save Henrik, who should have given him the last sweet roll at dinner the night before, who should have done something more..._

 

_He cried, and he cried, and he cried until he could cry no longer. Then he slept._

 

_When he awakened, night had already descended. A small fire was lit in the pit of the hut, and off to one side the young healer Maija kneeled, stirring what smelled like a stew in a small pot._

 

“ _Are you alright, Kol?” She asked, voice gentle and face kind. Kol was speechless; Maija had never really talked to him before, mostly talking with Mother and Bekah and Ayana about magic. Oh, she'd sensed him eavesdropping, always looking for tidbits of information about the art that was forbidden to him. Once she'd even passed him a cloth full of herbs and a scroll with their uses in magic on it with a sly smile, but for some reason she always seemed sad and wistful when she looked at him. He'd overheard Ayana telling Mother that she'd lost her family to the plague, which was why she'd come here with her aunt to the New World._

 

_On top of that, Kol had fancied her since he'd realized that girls were not, in fact, gross. He'd once proclaimed to Bekah that he'd marry her one day, which she had told the rest of their siblings. After that, whenever Kol was in the same vicinity as Maija his brothers and sister would all make kissy faces at him behind her back. From her smile she'd obviously known or suspected, which made him burn with embarrassment all the more. So it was understandable that this interaction shocked him._

 

“ _I am sorry if I have intruded into your personal space, Kol,” she said, misinterpreting his silence. Before he could answer, she continued, “However, it is after dark and the woods are dangerous. I noticed that you were not with your family so I came looking for you to make sure that you were not in danger.” Kol shook himself a little, then shook his head again. “No, you are fine, Healer Maija. I thank you for your concern,” he said, ducking his head to hide his tear stained cheeks and red eyes. He barely had enough energy to startle when a delicate finger lifted his chin up. Blue-green eyes, the color of the lake in summer peered down at him with a mixture of emotions, from sadness to guilt to wistful to anger and so many more that Kol could not decipher them all._

 

“ _You do not have to hide your grief, Kol. The loss of one that you love...” she trailed off, but instead of the glazed look he often saw Mother get when she thought of her eldest child, lost to plague, her gaze grew more intense, eyes tracing his features like she was imprinting the sight into her mind. “The loss of one that you love is a terrible feeling, one you should not hide from, for that will make it all the worse. That sadness will turn to anger, to hate, and those are not feelings that should rule your life. Do not be like your Father in these things. Cherish the memories you have and do not dwell on the past. It will get better, I promise you that.”_

 

_She moved then, and Kol felt the loss of her touch like the removal of one of his own limbs. She shuffled in the small space back over to the pot, procuring two clay bowls and spoons from her bag before serving them both. Kol took a bite and felt a rush of warmth throughout his body, chasing away the chill of the night and abating the ache in his heart just slightly. A piece of fresh bread followed, and only then did Kol notice just how hungry he was. He wolfed down the meal, surprised when his spoon scraped along the empty bottom of the bowl. With a slight chuckle Maija served him the rest of the flavorful stew which he ate just as enthusiastically as the last. When that was gone, he looked sheepishly up at the pretty witch._

 

“ _Thank you, Healer Maija. I will find some way to repay you,” he said, placing his fist over his heart and bowing his head. Again, Maija lifted his chin, but this time her face was solemn. “There is no need for that, Kol. I do this out of the gladness of my heart, and your happiness in life is the only payment I require.” Kol could only nod dumbly as the woman brushed her hand lightly over his cheek before turning to pack up her supplies. “How about we make our way back to the village, hmm? Your mother is sure to notice your absence soon, and we do not want her to fret.”_  
  
“Of course, Healer Maija,” Kol replied dutifully, carefully covering the embers of the fire with dirt.

 

_Maija walked him all the way back to his family's home where she hugged him lightly in farewell. When he entered his house, nobody noticed his presence, or even the fact that he'd been gone._

 

_Two days after Henrik's death, Mikael found Kol and Henrik's hut and burned it to the ground, along with everything inside._

 

_Four days after Henrik's death, Mother and Maija fought viciously after Maija refused to help her with something. All of the young healer's things were gone when Kol went to check, save for a strange gemstone that Kol kept and hid from everyone._

 

_Seven days after Henrik's death, Kol's Father killed him and his siblings. When he woke up, he was a monster._

 

 

 

Kol shook himself back to the present. He looked over at Isis and was struck by the kindness in her eyes, where previously they'd only held annoyance or coldness towards him. He stared because he could swear that this girl's eyes were the same color as Maija's were. No, it was just that damnable memory playing tricks on his mind.

 

“I'm fine,” he said stiffly, pulling the handle on the door and getting out, shutting it before she could call him out on his obvious lie. That stupid party was affecting him more than it should. A bunch of humans shouldn't remind him of his failed relationships with his siblings. Their snubs shouldn't bother him like the obvious dismissal his siblings gave him did.

 

Isis opened the door, face back in that steely mask she usually wore. She tossed her keys into the bowl on the hall table and hung up her jacket before gliding out of the room and up the stairs without another word to him. That was fine, it wasn't anything he wasn't used to.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony~_

 

_December 31st, 2013_

 

The last few days had been nothing but frosty silence on both of their parts. Isis knew she was partly to blame. She was too prideful, had reacted badly to his dismissal of her concern. After all, all she'd shown him was distaste. He'd most likely thought she was trying to find a weakness with her sudden interest in his well-being. On top of that she was in a terrible mood, the anniversary of her parents' deaths at the forefront of her mind. She planned to change that today, though. She'd found an old book on the history of her people in the attic yesterday that she would give to him.

 

When she went downstairs, book cradled in her arms, it took her a second to recognize the smell of something burning. She leaped down the last of the stairs, rushing into the kitchen only to find a very flustered vampire flitting around the room, looking for something to put out the flames on the stove. Isis raised a hand towards it and then clenched it into a fist, the fire extinguishing after a weak struggle against her power. Kol turned around, eyes slightly wild before they landed on her. Sheepishly, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her.

 

“Your modern inventions are very confusing,” he admitted in a weak tone, picking up the frying pan that was now caked in what looked like it might have been eggs at one point. Isis stared in disbelief at him. “How on Earth can you burn eggs? You can literally control the level of flame underneath of it,” she said, watching as he winced before becoming indignant.

 

“I was trying to figure out your coffee machine! I had my back turned for two seconds! And it's not like I can actually smell anything, so how would I know they were burning?”

 

Isis could only stare at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. A spectral vampire of unknown age trying to make her breakfast and burning it. She snorted, once, and at his even more indignant look she broke down laughing, leaning helplessly against the island. His indignant look faded into amusement before he started to chuckle, then laugh right along with her. When they both stopped, only tiny giggles left, they looked at each other with smiles for the first time.

 

“I wanted to apologize, I shouldn't have asked...”  
  
“I wanted to apologize, I shouldn't have snapped...” They both stopped and looked at the other before laughing again.

 

“Here,” Isis said, handing the book to him. He took it gently, stroking the spine as he read the title.

 

“ _A Brief History of the Sorcerer's Sodality_ , brief? This thing must weigh 20 pounds!” He said, smile growing bigger at the precious book in his hands. Isis only shrugged. “You've never met a more long-winded group than Sorcerers.”

 

“So that's what you are, then. I thought you were a witch of some sort,” he said, growing confused when her smile became a mask of disdain, nose in the air as she looked into his eyes.

 

“Never. Ever. Call me a witch. Those nature loving fools have no clue how the world really works and how magic actually governs it. They're weak compared to those of us who draw our power from the Universe instead of limiting ourselves to that of our ancestor's or some other nonsense, content to piggyback off the successes of their forebears. We create new things everyday while they stick to the same old pathways, never venturing forward in case they offend someone's outdated sensibilities.”

 

 

 

Kol looked taken aback by her speech, eyes wide as they watched hers practically sparkle with defiance. He'd never, in his millenia of life, even heard of power like that. He looked down at the book in his hand, aware even more of what a treasure he held. A whole new group of magic user that he'd never encountered? “I apologize, I did not know it would cause you offense,” he said, looking back up at her. Her countenance loosened as she gave him a nod, small smile back on her face.

 

“Well, how about I clean up this mess and you can go get started on that book?” She said, bumping hips with him playfully. His eyes filled with that same unholy glee as before as he unconsciously brushed a ghostly kiss to her cheek before speeding away. Isis was left speechless in his wake, a hand coming up to touch the spot where he'd pressed his lips.

 

'Aw, hell,' she thought to herself.

* * *

 

_January 1st, 2014_

 

“Happy New Year, darling!” Kol exclaimed as the clock struck midnight. Instead of answering him, Isis solemnly lifted the silk cloth on the table, revealing an altar of sorts. She lit a long match, setting the bowl of herbs aflame. The mixture of Arabic gum, bloodroot, buchu, dandelion leaf and sweet grass began to smoke, drifting upwards in twisting whirls accompanied by an acrid scent. Isis waved a hand, lighting the candles set at the cardinal points. She picked up a picture of her parents and herself, taken on her 10th birthday, ten days before their deaths.

 

She could feel his eyes on her, and if she'd had it any other way he wouldn't be here for this. This was her ritual, every year, burning herbs for protection and love and divination. Ever since she'd been old enough she'd done this, trying to get a vision or a feeling for what had happened that night so many years ago.

 

Every year, all she'd gotten was burning eyes and an itchy nose from inhaling the herbs.

 

She suddenly felt like something slammed into her head, her vision going black.

 

_Smoke. Fire. Flames. Screaming. So much screaming, so much_ fear. _How could she do this? How could **he** let her do this? They had served faithfully, even when his demands were outrageous they had served._

 

_More flame. There was the door. Only inches, and she would be out. A long scream echoed, and she realized it was coming from her. She stared at her had, at the perfect imprint of the House of Butler's crest, seared and branded into her palm, their family motto shining white against her life line. Mocking. 'Ad vitam aeternam, familia fideles defendit.' For all time, family protects the faithful ones._

 

_With a harsh intake of breath, she reached her hand out again, pushing power, cold like the Arctic into her palm. She grabbed the doorknob and was unprepared for it to explode in her hand, shards of metal piercing through her skin like bullets. She rolled over, holding the mangled flesh to her chest, tears streaming down her face._

 

_Through the haze of smoke and ash and water she saw a figure, ethereal in it's movements, walking through the flame untouched. She could not make out the face but she knew who it was, knew who the limp figure in the being's arms was. She wanted to scream, to cry to **rage** but all she could manage was a weak groan, barely enough to catch the figures attention._

 

_A voice, calm like the sea but raging underneath floated down to her, barely piercing through the dying wails of the others and the crackling of wood._

 

“ _Neith Khalid Butler, daughter of Nabil and Tauret, judgment has been passed upon you and you have been found wanting.”_

 

_She did not think she was capable of the sounds she made when the burning beam fell on her stomach, pinning her to the floor of the mansion. She barely noticed when the figure left, taking their prize with it, only the feeling of burning and bubbling flesh-_

 

“ISIS!” A sharp shake pulled her out of the vision and she inhaled deeply, coughing and shaking her head to clear the last of the smoke and tears from it. She scrambled backwards, hitting into something hard as her chest heaved labored breaths, her hands flying up to touch at her stomach. Soft cloth met her, not the seared flesh she was expecting. She heard a low murmuring in front of her and unconsciously struck out, blindly throwing a concussive wave of pure unrestrained power at the voice. A loud crash broke through the haze of her mind, bringing her out of the vestiges of the vision.

 

'No, the memory,' she thought, tears flowing down her cheeks as she looked up to the welcome sight of Kol, crouched in front of her with his hands up and an uncharacteristic look of concern on his face. Behind him she could see the destroyed dining set, the bowl overturned and the smoldering remains of the herbs scattered on the tile floor. One of the candles flickered valiantly, trying to stay lit as molten wax poured out of it before it, too, sputtered and died.

 

Without thinking, she flung herself at Kol, startling him into falling back onto his behind. Instead of attacking him like he most likely thought she would do, she wrapped her arms around his barely physical neck, clinging to him as shudders wracked her body. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her and she relaxed, taking this comfort for the first time in 13 years.

 

After she had calmed down (with a generous helping of whiskey, courtesy of Kol), she sat down and thought about what she had seen.

 

She couldn't make sense of it. Obviously she had been seeing it from her mother's point of view, but the thoughts were too confusing and jumbled for her to fully grasp. Who was this _he_ that they'd apparently served faithfully? Isis's dad had been the Master of the Sorcerer's Sodality when he was alive, just like his parents before him. Maybe she was talking about him? But what about the figure, who'd obviously started the fire? Why had she judged Isis's parents as 'wanting'? From what she could remember, her parents were loving and happy people. They always made sure to encourage her in everything she did, especially her studies in magic. And why had the figure saved her but not any of the other guests in the house? 12 people had died in the fire and only Isis had survived. The police had told them that she'd somehow made it out of the house, collapsing on the front lawn some distance away. Clearly that wasn't what happened, from what she'd seen.

 

Isis was brought out of her thoughts by Kol, who gently touched her shoulder.

 

“Do you think maybe you should get some sleep, love?” He said, still concerned but not as much as before.

 

“Yeah, yeah I think I will,” she said, standing up and shuffling tiredly out of the kitchen and up to her room.

 

 

 

Kol watched the girl go pensively. He'd never seen a reaction like that to a vision before, and he'd seen plenty of visions in his life. Usually they would go rigid and unseeing, sometimes accompanied by nose bleeds or some such, not thrashing and screaming on the ground in agony. He quietly cleaned up the mess, stopping as he picked up the picture she'd put out.

 

In it a handsome man with dark hair and blue-green eyes stood, his hand on the little girl's, obviously Isis, shoulder. Kneeling down next to the young girl was a beautiful woman with dark eyes and golden skin, clearly Arabic in descent. Her eyes were rimmed with kohl and she wore an intricately embroidered hijab along with several talismans of power he'd seen used in Egypt in his travels. Her smile was wide as she looked into the camera, teeth white against her skin and matching Isis's perfectly. Isis held a familiar book in her hands, front tooth missing and looking perfectly ordinary, nothing like the flinty woman she was now.

 

Obviously her parents had died, most likely today by the way she had acted. She hadn't told him anything about it but he could just tell by the way she held the picture and her sadness that today was a day of mourning for her. It didn't explain the vision, though. He would just have to find out in his own time. Pushing her for answers she was reluctant to give would not gain him any points in his favor, and he desperately needed them if he was to learn all he could about this group of sorcerers and sorceresses.

 

* * *

 

_No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me~_

 

_January 23rd, 2014_

 

A month had passed since Kol had appeared in her life and everything was different- and yet, the same. They'd fallen into a routine of sorts- where she'd go, he'd go, either visible or hidden depending on her tasks. For every Sodality meeting he'd be invisible. He became known as the weird guy who popped out of nowhere at the grocer. They'd read, and watch tv, listen to a lot of music and talk about things in their world a bit, never giving too much information either way. She still didn't even know his last name.

 

The turning point came when they were out walking, him being hidden this time, content to sit back and observe humanity in this century. They were at an outdoor market buying herbs and vegetables when Isis suddenly felt like they were being watched. She turned and smiled at Kol, flicking her eyes to the right to indicate that something wasn't right. He nodded in return, branching out into the crowd to look for who it might be watching her.

 

She continued to act like nothing was wrong, paying the vendor for the corn and walking away, perusing the wine stall next. When Kol came back he had a frown on his face which did not bode well for Isis.

 

“There are four moderately large men who have been scoping you out,” he said, watching as she didn't acknowledge him in the slightest. “They appear to be doing it for malicious reasons.”  
  
“Mmm,” was all she said as she picked up a bottle of sweet red and read the description.

 

“Aren't you at all concerned about the impending confrontation?” He asked, looking at her incredulously.

 

“Not particularly,” she murmured, gesturing that she wanted the bottle.

 

“And why is that?” He asked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. Isis paid the woman behind the counter with a smile, putting the bottle into her bag and turning to blend into the crowd.

 

“Because, Kol, I'm more than adept at defending myself,” she said, catching sight of one of the men. They really weren't trying hard to hide themselves, and something seemed off about them...

 

“They're compelled,” she said suddenly, catching sight of Kol's surprised face before he turned to study them as well.

 

“Indeed,” he muttered with a deep frown, looking around them again.

 

“Well, if a vampire wants to see me so badly that they have to compel themselves some muscle, let's see what they want, shall we?” Isis cheerfully said, abruptly turning down an alley that she knew to be a dead end.

 

“What are you doing?” Kol cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Instead of replying, Isis clutched her shopping bag to her chest and affected a terrified look as the four men rounded the corner.

 

“Um, excuse me,” she mumbled as she tried to skirt past them only to be grabbed by both arms and dragged towards a van. One of them slapped a piece of tape over her mouth when she started making noises of protest before they threw her in the back. Kol hurriedly jumped into the van before the door was slammed, looking at her like she was insane. Instead of doing anything she gave him a wink before huddling in the corner like a girl who'd just been kidnapped would.

 

She was taken to a warehouse and tied up. How cliché was that? She looked at Kol and rolled her eyes to express her displeasure at how unimaginative it all was. His only response was an angry glare, which only made her sigh in exasperation.

 

Not too long of a time later she heard the tell-tale click of heels on the floor behind her. Kol looked up from where he was glaring at her and his mouth dropped open in shock.

 

“Katerina Petrova,” he whispered, staring at the infamous doppelganger in genuine disbelief.

 

The vampiress was a beautiful woman, Isis noted. It was no wonder that there were legends of how she ensnared many a man, including one of the Originals himself. She looked down at Isis with a smirk, leaning over to rip the tape off of her mouth.

 

“Isis Butler, correct?” She said with a honeyed tone, obviously trying to make Isis feel more at ease.

 

“I am. Katerina Petrova, if I'm not mistaken?” She replied cattily, watching as the little smirk dropped off of her face.

 

“You're well informed,” she said, voice now flat with surprise. Isis only shrugged, wiggling to get as comfortable as she could with her arms tied behind her back. “I like to be on the up and up, as they say.”  
  
Katerina looked over her, inspecting her like one would a bug. It made her bristle indignantly on the inside but on the outside she was calm and collected. Kol was still standing there, staring at the vampire like he'd seen a ghost.

 

“I think that you and I will get along just fine,” Katerina said, smirking at her again. “You see, I'm in the market for a witch, one who can help me with breaking a very specific spell.”  
  
“Oh? And what brought you to me?” Isis replied, amused and slightly insulted that the woman thought that she was a mere witch. Then again, her kind had been staying as far away from Katerina's for a very long time with good reason.

 

“I heard through the grapevine that you were fairly powerful, somewhat of a prodigy in magic,” she said, and something in that made Kol choke a little in surprise. Barely giving him any attention, Isis said, “Well, Ms. Petrova, while I'm flattered I'll have to decline. I don't even know what spell it is that you want me to break.”  
  
Katerina looked at her, amused, and Isis knew that the vampire thought she was being naive.

 

“The curse that I want to break is the Sun and the Moon curse. I already have the moonstone and a werewolf,” she said, looking supremely pleased with herself. Isis couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing.

 

“You do realize that the Sun and the Moon curse is fake, correct?” She said in answer to the angry look on Katerina's face. The shock that flickered over both Kol and Katerina's faces was enough to know that yes, they did in fact know that.

 

“How do you know that,” Katerina demanded as she got into Isis's face, though Isis just stayed serene. She studied the woman, the fear lurking in her eyes mixed with tiredness and resolve. From the tales Isis had heard she could guess why.

 

“You've been running a very long time, haven't you?” Isis murmured instead of answering, watching as Katerina stumbled back a few steps. Kol was looking at Isis with a very strange look, almost like fear and resignation.

 

“What do you know?” The vampiress said, warily eyeing the sorceress tied to the chair. Isis looked her over with an appraising glance, seemingly making a decision.

  
“I know that the Sun and the Moon curse was created by Niklaus Mikaelson and his brother Elijah as a means to have every supernatural on the lookout for the doppelganger so that a centuries old curse could be broken,” she said, watching as Kol flinched and Katerina's eyes flashed dangerously.

  
“How could you possibly know that? No one knows that,” she spat, baring her fangs at Isis threateningly.

 

Easily shrugging the ropes off of her with a spell, Isis stood up, rotating her wrists to get the feeling back in them.

 

“One, I know because I'm not a witch. I don't know who you heard that from but it's, quite frankly, insulting to be compared to those half-wits. Secondly, a very powerful sorceress wrote in her memoirs about the time she spent in the Mikaelson Family's confidence, though that book has only been passed down in my line. Thirdly, my friend Kol's reactions to everything I said here today has only proved it true,” Isis said while pointedly looking at the vampire in question.

 

Katerina's face paled rapidly when Kol made himself visible. She turned to run when she hit an invisible barrier, put there purposefully by Isis. Like a cornered animal she whirled around, baring her fangs at the two of them. Isis felt a deep sadness as she watched the spectacle, unable to even imagine the fear that must be running through her at that moment. Running for 500 years only to be seemingly trapped by an enemy that far overpowered you with no way out?

 

“Katerina,” Isis said slowly, watching as she registered the fact that neither Isis nor Kol had made a move towards her. Instead, Kol was standing to the side, watching Isis as she faced down an old and crafty enemy.   
  
“Katherine,” the vampiress whispered. Stronger, she continued, “My name is Katherine Pierce. Katerina Petrova is dead.”  
  
Isis nodded, seeing the truth in the statement. Katerina Petrova was a young girl who had had her life ripped away from her just for wanting to survive. Katherine Pierce was a survivor, the only one who'd ever eluded Niklaus Mikaelson for as long as she had.

 

“Katherine, then. I'm not going to hurt you, and neither will Kol. But you can't remember meeting me or seeing Kol. I can't let you leave before I take those memories,” Isis said.

 

“You want to take my memories?” She fearfully glanced around the room, looking for an escape that she'd never find.

 

“Just of me and Kol. You'll remember that you came here looking for a witch but she wasn't up to the caliber that you needed. It's too dangerous for you to know about either of us,” she explained as gently as possible. Before Katherine could do anything to stop her, Isis knocked her out with a spell. She walked over to the prone body of the woman, placing two fingers on her temple. With a gentle push of her magic, she entered the vampiress's mind, struggling only momentarily with the mental barriers she found. Sweeping through recent memory, she found all thoughts of Isis and erased them, replacing them with fabricated ones. Next, she removed the last hour from her memory, implanting the suggestion that she'd been disappointed with the witch she'd found and left.

 

“Come on, Kol. Let's get out of here before she wakes up,” Isis said tiredly, looking down at Katherine one last time. Kol followed silently behind her, deep in thought. Stopping to grab her bag of groceries they made their way back to Isis's house in silence.

 

 

“When did you figure it out?” Kol asked later that night over dinner. Isis paused with a piece of chicken halfway to her mouth, looking neutrally at Kol.

 

“It wasn't that hard,” she said, finishing her bite and downing it with some of the wine she'd bought earlier.

 

“Yes, but how? How do you know about Nik and Elijah and the Sun and the Moon curse? About Katerina and the doppelgangers?” He said frustratedly, leaning forward in his chair.

 

“Sorcerers have been around for a long time, Kol. Longer than vampires, longer than the cursed wolves. We generally stay away from your kind, your wolves and your witches. For some reason the three of you have always been tightly intertwined and we never interfered with your business except in extreme circumstances. But that doesn't mean we weren't watching, sometimes from very close by,” she finally explained when it looked like he was about to explode.

 

“But how did you know about me?” He asked, gritting his teeth when she chuckled.

 

“Well, I knew you were old. You're also wearing clothes from the turn of the century, which even for a vampire is unusual. Then I re-read the book and there was a mention about how your brother has a penchant for sticking a dagger in his siblings when they do something to piss him off, especially his sister Rebekah and his brother Kol. I thought maybe it was coincidence, but then today with Katherine you reacted too strongly to not be personally invested in the things we were talking about.”  
  
“Bloody sorcerers,” he cursed, running a hand through his hair. Isis smirked at him, lifting her wine glass in a salute.

 

“So are we going to talk about it?” She asked a little later when they'd settled on the couch to watch a movie.

 

“What's there to talk about?” He muttered unenthusiastically. Isis gave him a look which he pursed his lips at.

 

“I'm gonna go out on a limb and say this isn't common place then,” Isis said, watching as his face twisted up in confusion.

 

“What, this?” He asked while gesturing at himself. “No, this has never happened in all the times I've been daggered,” he said resentfully.

 

“No, well yes, but I meant someone actually giving a damn about you and your story, your side of things,” she explained, studying him intently. He looked at her, surprised and studying her just as intently as she was him.

 

Isis kept her expression open and honest, something that she wasn't used to. It pained her to do so, letting such a wild card see _her_ instead of the mask she wore, but he'd already seen her at her most vulnerable and hadn't used it against her. Yet. Obviously the fact that he was here, as impossible as it was, and bound to her meant something. She didn't know what but things like this didn't just _happen._ He must've read that in her somewhere because he heaved a long sigh.

 

“What do you want to know?” He cringed almost immediately, seeing that same unholy glee in her eyes as he got when he was about to gain new knowledge.

 

At first, she only asked him where he'd been, the places he'd seen and the people he'd met. He started off haltingly, obviously unused to having someone willing to listen to him. Even though he was arrogant he told his story in such a way that Isis couldn't help but be compelled to listen. He told of watching Paris be built, Venice, Rome, the plains of Africa teeming with wildlife, Constantinople, Shakespeare, learning shamanic magics from so many different cultures that it was ridiculous. When she stopped laughing at the story he'd told of a half-naked Klaus running from a horde of angry witches, she finally asked him the question that she wanted to know the answer of most.

 

“Why?”   
  
He looked at her, confused. “Why what?”  
  
“Why did you get daggered this last time? Or any time, really. I mean, just from talking to you and being around you I can see why your brother might get annoyed at you, but not enough to stick you in a box for a century,” she said, leaning her head back on the couch as she looked at him. There was still a faint smile around the corners of her lips as she watched the emotions cycle across his face.

 

“I... Back, when we were human, we were all close. Then, my brother Henrik died, and... And my father made my mother, a powerful witch, turn us into vampires because they never wanted to lose another child. I was furious and... Lost, I suppose you could say, because I couldn't be a vampire and a witch. I lost access to my magic and so, to fill that void, to feel that rush I got when I practiced magic, I embraced my new nature wholeheartedly even when my siblings fought against it at first. That started to drive us apart; noble Elijah, loving Rebekah, heartbroken Nik- whose true nature as a hybrid had been locked away by our mother. I ended up playing second fiddle to their trio of angst and it _hurt_. So I acted out more and more until finally, about a hundred years ago, I finally went too far. I tried to create an object that could neutralize my brother Niklaus like he'd done to us countless times and I had almost succeeded when he caught me. Still, I tried, and even attempted to enlist my sister to help me but she betrayed me to him and... well, I've been in a box ever since,” he explained, looking tired and resigned.

 

“Okay, but what were your reasons? Couldn't you have, I don't know, just stopped after a while? I don't mean try to deny your nature, but maybe tried to tone it down a little?” Isis knew the moment she said it that it was the wrong thing to say. Kol's face went from a heartbreaking sadness to furious in a second. He shot from his side of the couch to hers, boxing her in and baring his fangs at her. Something dark flickered around him for just a second, a barely visible aura of deep black, Isis barely catching it as she reflexively leaned back from his snarling visage. Her heartbeat jumped even though she knew he couldn't do anything to hurt her, making a twisted smile cross his lips.

 

“Why would I want to? When I can cause such fear in someone as powerful as you, why would I want to 'tone it down,' as you say?”

  
Isis didn't react except to look at him evenly, staring straight into his eyes. She watched as the fury bled out of him, a visible thing that started as his vampire face receded to the slump of his shoulders in defeat. He remained there with his hands on either side of her as his head hung between his shoulders, deep breaths barely hiding the shaking of his arms.

 

“I don't know,” he said brokenly, causing Isis's heart to constrict. “I don't know.”

 

“We'll figure it out,” she said softly, placing two fingers under his chin to lift his face to hers, only inches away at this point. “I promise we'll figure it out, because there is something unnatural about the way you just reacted.”

 

Kol's eyes, previously full of self-loathing suddenly filled with hope and something else. Something Isis didn't want to examine any further.

 

'Fuck,' she thought as a small, genuine smile appeared on his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkled with the movement.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any recognizable content belongs to the original owners. I own Isis Butler and any oc characters and situations.
> 
> Find me on tumblr- karnillaofnorn or message me for any questions!


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